Spirituality is about connection. Connection with yourself, connection with nature, connection with people, and connection with the divine.
Religious rituals are props to help us to connect - therefore all the bowing downs, kneeling, standing up etc (Islamic prayer, yoga practice etc) are there to help us to connect. Reading scriptures in public or private is also a form of ritual but that may only connect the mind, not so much the body. The ultimate goal in all spiritual practices is to have union with the divine.
Therefore, performing rituals is not performing magic. Rituals are props, like props in Iyengar yoga, to aid us to do poses we can't do, until we are able to do them without the props. Once we have connected, we should discard those rituals.
Rituals are aids and means, not end, to our spiritual goals.
BLISS
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Dusty's Bedroom Adventures
One day, Dusty, she of the Fat Pink Belly, hid under her daddy's bed.
Her daddy, in the throes of rushing off to yoga, was oblivious to having left any cat in the bedroom. Her other daddy (who prefers to be called "boss") knew she was in the room under the dressing table. But when he saw she wasn't there, he thought she had followed her daddy out, so he closed the bedroom door. The boss, it must be said, wasn't used to feline subterfuge.
"Goody!" thought Dusty to herself, "I get to explore the secrets of the bed chamber!" Her daddy usually shooed her out whenever she ventured in, and rarely did she have the opportunity to explore the secret inner chambers of the flat.
So Dusty first went to her favourite place: the bathroom. She decided to write all about how she felt on the pink bathroom tiles, using her sooty dusty paws. She wrote a love note to her daddy on one tile. Then she wrote a prettier love note to the boss. She then wrote a scathing complaint about Raven on several tiles. By the time she was done, the entire bathroom floor was more black paw prints than pink tiles.
"Daddy will be pleased," she purred to herself, "It's not often that I tell him how much I love him,"
Done with the bathroom, Dusty proceed to crawl under the bed. "Better yet, on the bed!" she thought. She rolled around on the bed, gleefully exposing her fat pink belly to all and sundry - which was no one really, since she was in the bedroom by herself.
She crowed to herself about her coup, "That fat black Raven has tried to get an afternoon in the bedroom by herself, but has always been shooed out. So much for the boss thinking she's the smartest!" thought Dusty, with satisfaction.
Such an afternoon of pleasurable delight had not been in Dusty's recent experience. She spent a long time staring at a pigeon in the window. She rolled in the duvet and hopped from pillow to pillow. She tried writing another love letter on the dressing table, but found that black paw prints on black wood didn't work. Soon, Dusty felt sleepy and decided to take a nap, comfortably making a cosy hollow in her daddy's pillow.
Suddenly Dusty woke up. It was dark outside. She thought to herself, "They're taking an awfully long time to get back!" Just then, the fat pink belly (attached to the fat brown cat) began to quiver with the need to ablute. "Oh no! What can I do?" Dusty thought, thoroughly distraught. "I have to use the softest thing here," she thought in desperation, and breathed a sigh of relief when her business was done.
As soon as the dastardly deed was executed (well, not dastardly to Dusty), the fat brown cat heard the main door open. "Excitement!" she squealed to herself, "Daddy and boss are back!" She rushed to the bedroom door, welcoming them back in both major and minor keys.
The boss was the first to open the door and...
Daniel Chandranayagam on Monday, October 24, 2011
Her daddy, in the throes of rushing off to yoga, was oblivious to having left any cat in the bedroom. Her other daddy (who prefers to be called "boss") knew she was in the room under the dressing table. But when he saw she wasn't there, he thought she had followed her daddy out, so he closed the bedroom door. The boss, it must be said, wasn't used to feline subterfuge.
"Goody!" thought Dusty to herself, "I get to explore the secrets of the bed chamber!" Her daddy usually shooed her out whenever she ventured in, and rarely did she have the opportunity to explore the secret inner chambers of the flat.
So Dusty first went to her favourite place: the bathroom. She decided to write all about how she felt on the pink bathroom tiles, using her sooty dusty paws. She wrote a love note to her daddy on one tile. Then she wrote a prettier love note to the boss. She then wrote a scathing complaint about Raven on several tiles. By the time she was done, the entire bathroom floor was more black paw prints than pink tiles.
"Daddy will be pleased," she purred to herself, "It's not often that I tell him how much I love him,"
Done with the bathroom, Dusty proceed to crawl under the bed. "Better yet, on the bed!" she thought. She rolled around on the bed, gleefully exposing her fat pink belly to all and sundry - which was no one really, since she was in the bedroom by herself.
She crowed to herself about her coup, "That fat black Raven has tried to get an afternoon in the bedroom by herself, but has always been shooed out. So much for the boss thinking she's the smartest!" thought Dusty, with satisfaction.
Such an afternoon of pleasurable delight had not been in Dusty's recent experience. She spent a long time staring at a pigeon in the window. She rolled in the duvet and hopped from pillow to pillow. She tried writing another love letter on the dressing table, but found that black paw prints on black wood didn't work. Soon, Dusty felt sleepy and decided to take a nap, comfortably making a cosy hollow in her daddy's pillow.
Suddenly Dusty woke up. It was dark outside. She thought to herself, "They're taking an awfully long time to get back!" Just then, the fat pink belly (attached to the fat brown cat) began to quiver with the need to ablute. "Oh no! What can I do?" Dusty thought, thoroughly distraught. "I have to use the softest thing here," she thought in desperation, and breathed a sigh of relief when her business was done.
As soon as the dastardly deed was executed (well, not dastardly to Dusty), the fat brown cat heard the main door open. "Excitement!" she squealed to herself, "Daddy and boss are back!" She rushed to the bedroom door, welcoming them back in both major and minor keys.
The boss was the first to open the door and...
Daniel Chandranayagam on Monday, October 24, 2011
Sunday, October 9, 2011
A Thought on Fundamentalism
Fundamentalism, the dirty word, is no longer applied only to the religious. Liberals, feminists, atheists, and secularists can all be fundamentalists.
It's a system, a system that makes one to believe one is always right and refuse to respect others' position. It's a system that ridicules other beliefs without realizing something can be wrong with his/her own belief.
So if you think you are enlightened and ridicule others whom beliefs are different from yours, you are no difference from those whom you ridicule. So, Christian fundamentalists and atheist fundamentalists are both on the same boat.
BLISS
It's a system, a system that makes one to believe one is always right and refuse to respect others' position. It's a system that ridicules other beliefs without realizing something can be wrong with his/her own belief.
So if you think you are enlightened and ridicule others whom beliefs are different from yours, you are no difference from those whom you ridicule. So, Christian fundamentalists and atheist fundamentalists are both on the same boat.
BLISS
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Overgrown Teens
I am 48 but I don't feel like I am 48. I know I look younger and am healthier than many 48 year-olds. Perhaps it is because of the way I look and my health that I don't feel like I am 48? But I have never been 48 before so how do I know a 48 year-old man is supposed feel?
It is interesting. Recently someone created a facebook page, reuniting all my old church members. Majority of us now are in our middle age and the last time I saw these people I was in my early twenties. But I don't feel any difference the way we relate to each other. In fact, we respond to each others' posts like we were still at our teens. Picking on each other, teasing each other, and saying silly things to each other.
I wonder, do we really grow up? Or we are just, like one of my wise friends says, overgrown teenagers??
I wonder
Bliss
It is interesting. Recently someone created a facebook page, reuniting all my old church members. Majority of us now are in our middle age and the last time I saw these people I was in my early twenties. But I don't feel any difference the way we relate to each other. In fact, we respond to each others' posts like we were still at our teens. Picking on each other, teasing each other, and saying silly things to each other.
I wonder, do we really grow up? Or we are just, like one of my wise friends says, overgrown teenagers??
I wonder
Bliss
Monday, October 3, 2011
Start Again
My last entry was in November 2010. I lost interest of blogging because of Facebook. But I think i like to start again because I have some thoughts I would really like to write down before they disappear from this aging mind of mine. Besides, this blog is special to me because I started it right after I got married.
So here you go. The Bliss is back :)
So here you go. The Bliss is back :)
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